On the left, more protesters are dressed in green camouflage with fluorescent-yellow high-visibility jackets, waving picket signs and chanting something about pollution and the world ending. On the right, a group of topless women shout slogans and brandish banners asking for ‘Naked Rights’.
Now that’s something I can get behind. This shirt is scratchy, these trousers give me camel-toe and these heels are killing me.
The protesters’ cries blend into a jumbled mess, their shouts and rallies all trying to be heard, drowning each other out. No matter which way I turn, there seems to be more protests, roadworks and diversions than ever before. As I stand, trying to figure out an alternative route, dozens of people hurry by, their faces drawn and weary under the heavy weight of their bags and responsibilities.
My breath hitches as I glance at my wristwatch. It’s seven minutes until I’m due at the flat Ash has booked for us to view. And yet, here I am, miles away. He’s so excited about seeing this flat together, but there’s no way I can make it in time.
My stomach sinks as I realise the alternative route I know is blocked off too. A huge detour sign flashes towards Peabody Bridge – the opposite way I should be heading. It also leads straight into the middle of my childhood neighbourhood, a direction I avoid at all costs.
With every passing moment, I feel a growing sense of guilt and urgency. I’m going to have to break the news to Ash – this won’t go down well. With shaking hands and a heavy heart, I reach for my phone. The impending conversation looms over me like a storm cloud about to burst, but I’ve got to tell him, so I steel myself as I press the call button.
He immediately answers with: ‘Daisy, where are you? I’m in line at the entrance of the building, and it’s insane how many people are here! It looks like the line goes all around the corner!’
I take a deep breath. ‘Uh… Ash? Please don’t be mad. But I’m not going to make it; I’m miles away. The roads have closed, it’s mayhem – there’s no way to get a cab, and even if I could run the whole way, I’d still be too late. I’m so sorry.’
He groans over the phone. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me! This might be our only chance to get this place – to getanyplace thiscentury the way we’re going. There’s nothing else close enough that we can afford, and now this one is going to slip through our fingers.’
‘I know, I know… I would love to be there with you.’
I’m met with nothing but silence. I can almost picture him in my mind’s eye, running his hand through his wavy blonde hair, rolling his eyes and scuffing the ground with his shoe in frustration. I know that a simple apology isn’t enough to make this situation better. I have to make it right. We can’t afford to lose out on a place just because I can’t make it to the viewing.
‘Why don’t you just head on in, look around and if you think it ticks all the boxes, then go ahead and sign for it – okay? If it feels right to you, we won’t let this one get away.’
‘Really? You don’t want to check it out too?’ Ash asks.
‘Ideally, yes. But I trust you. It’s got to be better than what we’re doing now – zigzagging across town, you staying with your folks and me in my poky littleflat… it’ll be fine, it’ll be great.’
My instincts tug one way, my doubts the other. I think of Ash’s disappointment if I said no and know the decision is risky. Excitement and dread war within me as I weigh options: Do I take a chance or run away? Lose out or take a leap of faith? The unknown looms ahead, full of possibilities that both thrill and terrify me in equal measure. I take a deep breath and steel myself for what’s to come. It’s dangerous, but sometimes you have to risk it all to get what you want.
With bogus courage, I exclaim, ‘Let’s do it!’ despite my nails digging into the flesh of my hand. Backing out now is not an option; we’ve come too far already.
‘That’s my girl! Now that I’m here, it seems to actually be very close to Kayla’s house – so that’s got to be a plus, right around the corner from your bestie!’
I gulp. Kayla can’t stand where she lives – not just because of the annoying housemates who steal her charger and guzzle hervodka, but she’s also not a fan of the area. She calls it a concrete jungle, says the air reeks of burning tyres and she hasn’t heard a bird since she moved in there. Still, I guess you have to pay extra for fresh air and birdsong, something neither of us can swing in our budget. Beggars can’t be choosers.
In the background, a voice blares out an announcement. Ash replies with conviction, ‘That’s me! Here! I’m right here! That’s the agent,’ he tells me. ‘He’s just called me in. You’re sure about this? If it’s legit, I’ll sign for it now and secure the deal today.’
‘Without a doubt! We’re on the same team, Ash. Get it done.’
He inhales deeply, his excitement palpable through the receiver. ‘I’m going in,’ he says. ‘Fingers crossed! Talk soon, love you.’
And just like that, he’s gone.
I stop at the street corner, eyes darting back and forth between the towering buildings. The Peabody Bridge looms in the distance like a trap I’d rather not get caught in.
Suddenly, a flash of blue catches my eye. A police officer stands on the opposite corner, fingers tapping against his thigh.
I make my way over to him. ‘Is there any way I can avoid going over Peabody Bridge?’ I ask him, desperately wishing to steer clear of my old neighbourhood – a place filled with memories, both bitter and sweet.
He shakes his head. ‘Not unless you want to swim across the river yourself. It’s insanity around here today, absolute mayhem. All the lunatics are out and trying to change the world. You’re lucky that the bridge is even open. Me? I’d hightail it outta here before the Friday football crowds arrive – that’s when it’ll really hit the fan.’
I heave a sigh as I reluctantly decide that Peabody Bridge is going to be my least-worst option.
Joining the throng of people on foot, I can’t help but feel like everyone shares my frustration and disappointment. Peoplegrumble their complaints and send rapid-fire text messages as we all trudge together on our unexpected and super-annoying detour.
It seems the universe has its own plans, fate has chosen my path and I have no other choice but to walk this way once more.
Over Peabody Bridge and right by my old house.
